


We All Fall Down

by NecklaceOfDiamondsAndPearls



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Character Study, Heavy Angst, M/M, Self-Reflection, Spoilers for Rick and Morty season 4, like woah, this is big sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NecklaceOfDiamondsAndPearls/pseuds/NecklaceOfDiamondsAndPearls
Summary: You can't endow a creature with sentience and then take it away.Or:Rick doesn't handle the aftermath of episode 6 very well. This is an introspection into the world's most self-aware character and his poor grandson who has been dragged along for the ride.(Clearly this work contains spoilers for season 4 episode 6, but there are also references and spoilers to a majority of this show in here. Please don't read if you are new to Rick and Morty, or haven't seen any of season 4 yet.)
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 17
Kudos: 75





	We All Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> To the wonderful seven people who subscribed to me for my Steven Universe content: don't worry! I'll be back with more Bellow Diamond soon ^-^ I just had to get this idea out of my head because... woo, boy. Rick and Morty is getting crazy! 
> 
> To the regulars in the Rick/Morty tag: this is my first fic for this pairing, and I hope you can enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> Not beta-read, so all mistakes are my own. If there is anything that needs fixing, please feel free to point it out in the comments!

Media. A piece of media. That's all they were. Animated in the most literal sense of the word. A 2D rendition of the wild, most ridiculous imaginings of 3D gods. And yet they could be debased further. They could be words. Ugly, perverse words spinning a golden story that feeds the most basic and primal urges of the audience that they can't get from network television. They were nothing. They were perishable items. The expiration date of marketability looming over them more ominous than any Cromulon could ever hope to be. They were ashes. Ashes... They would all fall down one day. When the stories have all been told, when all the fanfiction tropes have been written. When all the pointless, plastic junk plastered with their faces have been bought, broken, and in a landfill. They'd all fall down.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way!" Rick screamed, throwing his empty flask at all the blueprints covering his shabby bedroom wall.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. This nihilistic, cynical circle-jerk that fetishised being an asshole as the only sign of intelligence. It was just supposed to be Rick and Morty.

Rick and Morty. Rick and Morty forever. A hundred times, Rick and Morty. That was the fucking deal. That's what he was promised ever since the first storyboard was sketched and awaiting approval by a group of starched-collared, jaded businessmen who wouldn't know comedy if it bit them in the ass.

He wasn't supposed to care.

_Give grandpa a kiss_

He wasn't supposed to love.

_G-g-gimmie, give grandpa a kiss_

He wasn't supposed to ruin that damn kid!

"Fucking God damn it, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate you!" Rick knew he was howling like an injured wolf. He only hoped it was loud enough for the corporate overlords to hear through the stacked papers of scripts that would never see the light of day.

Crippling loneliness was built into him from the first forms his character had taken in messy sketches, only getting worse as soon as he was given solid lines and a color palette. His incredibly vague backstory just hushed whispers between the two biggest asshole gods running this operation. He had only been alive for minutes, and yet he felt a lifetime of pain. Despair. Loss. The only solace coming in the form of an equally rough-sketched body in a yellow shirt. That was the deal. Rick Sanchez would embody every form of hurt imaginable, he'd balance that with being smart enough to know it was fabricated. And in return his creators would give him a companion to share that heavy burden. Trying to fill the dark void of their manufactured lives with crazy adventures until capitalism appointed them another burnt-out, mass-produced fad.

Rick and Morty forever, right?

Then why has every episode of season four felt like another obstacle between them?

Morty abandoning Rick's dead body for a girl, Rick purposely sabotaging Morty's Netflix deal, Rick giving Morty a black eye.

Rick begging for a kiss.

The 3D gods were playing a dangerous game. Not dangerous for the audience, of course. The blatant shipping fuel had been present since season one.

_Okay... **now** if we hear squeaking, we intervene._

But it had never gotten physical.

The 3D gods were pushing them apart only to shove them back together in the most haphazard way. A way that must have made Morty beyond uncomfortable. Not because their ship was wrong. But because it was being used for a fucking joke.

He wasn't supposed to care.

He wasn't supposed to love.

But he did.

He wasn't supposed to ruin Morty.

But he had. Their dirty little not-so-secret on display as Rick crawled over the kid, begging for anything Morty was willing to give. 

Because they both knew that's how it would end.

They would have to give everything they were to the 3D gods, leaving nothing to give each other. Nothing but scraps. Nothing but awkward forehead kisses. Nothing complete.

They weren't made to be complete. They were made to sell.

Rick wept.

Morty, Beth, Summer, Mr. Poopybutthole... even fucking Jerry. Rick wept for all of them.

When you're smart enough to know the point of your existence is to be pointless, a blank slate for the public's projection, even being the smartest man in the universe can't break you out of that circle.

A sliver of light, then. The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, maybe? Rick was half right. His bleary and bloodshot eyes catching the watery silhouette of Morty. His precious Morty. The poor boy he was going to drag down with him until the bitter finale. Or maybe he'd just lose him. Who fucking knew with the writers controlling every move, literally derailing the story at their whim.

"R-rick? Are you okay?"

_What kind of question is that?_ Rick wanted to hiss. He only remained silent. He didn't have a script.

Tiny hands, too cute to have held the weaponry Rick made him hold, reached down to pick up the fallen flask. Shuffling forward, Morty placed it on the bedside table before turning to face his grandfather.

"R-rick?"

"What is it, Morty?" The elder growled out, his voice weak from screaming.

With beads of sweat on his brow and a nervous twisting of the hem of that iconic yellow shirt, Morty leaned forward and whispered "I-I-I wanna g-give you a kiss."

Young, supple lips pressed against thin, chapped one; and Rick fell.

_Please, just leave us alone. Only for a moment._ Rick begged as he tugged Morty down on the bed with him, desperate to feel something.

As they parted for breath, Morty met Rick's eyes with a sad, nervous grin. "I've w-wanted to do that all day. Just the two of us. N-no audience. W-we can have this. Can't we, Rick?"

Stolen moments between the shuffling of scripts, clean-up animation, and the endless tug-of-war between creator and fan story preference. It wasn't much. But Rick refused to let it go.

"Yes... Yeah, little buddy. W-we can have this. Rick and Morty forever, dawg."

"Forever, a hundred years." Morty smiled.

Or until the bitter finale...

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ^-^


End file.
